


Circuit Breaker

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 08:36:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael, Gavin, and Ray grew up to be huge fans of Grifball. So much so, in fact, that they tried out for their high school teams and eventually made it into the minor leagues. When they’re approached by the owner of their favorite team who is seeking to start another team on the side, how could they pass up the opportunity? But as greed grips the higher-ups of the league, nothing is as it seems and innocent lives are hurting to benefit the wrong people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Circuit Breaker

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not super knowledgeable about Grifball but I know the fundamentals and such and I'm doing my research on it. There will be a few tweaks to preserve continuity of the story and make it believable but other than that I am going to try to stay true to the game.

Michael could remember the first time he went to a Grifball game with his dad. He was about seven at the time so remembering that far back was an impressive feat. He remembered the awe he felt at the size of the place as they walked into the arena. He could remember the smell of the stone and thick metal that lined the walls and the concrete that they walked on; could remember the taste of the air, thick and pungent and full of different flavors from the concession stands. Mostly he remembered sitting in his seat to watch the game and the excitement it brought as each team member tried to slaughter the orange-colored player before he could make a goal. He would bounce in his seat with excitement and as the home team scored, the crowd would cheer and give him a sense of camaraderie with a bunch of strangers he knew he would probably never see again.

But if there was anything he remembered better other than all of the normal first experiences that came with a Grifball game, it was the friend he had made completely by accident. He had been playing in the kid’s place that the arena had, waiting for the game to start when he noticed a boy about his age with sandy-colored hair and deep blue-green eyes curled up in the corner, protecting his head from a much larger and obviously older boy of at least eight or nine who was smacking him. The bully pulled on the younger boy’s hair, making him yelp and lift his head to try and alleviate the pain. There were tears streaming down his cheeks as he tried to claw at the hand to no avail.

“You have such a huge nose!” The bully proclaimed, grabbing the boy’s nose and holding it closed so that he was forced to breathe through his mouth, “Why don’t you talk like an actual person. You sound so stupid.”

Surprised that none of the adults seemed to be paying attention, Michael walked closer to them intent on stopping this bully from hurting this poor boy further, “Hey! Stop it!” he growled, “You’re making him cry!”

“Yeah, ‘cause he’s a baby…” the bully retorted, dropping the boy and kicking him in the side when he fell to the ground.

“Stop that!” the bespectacled boy shoved the older one away, “Why are you being so mean? I’m gonna go get my dad and you’ll be sorry…”

The bully simply scoffed and walked off, presumably to keep himself from getting into trouble.

Michael turned back to the boy as he struggled to stand. An arm was wrapped around his side but he smiled up at the red-haired boy gratefully, using his other hand to wipe the tears from his cheeks and spoke in a thick, high-pitched British accent, “Thanks a lot. I wasn’t sure when he was gonna stop.”

“Why was he picking on you in the first place?” Michael asked in confusion.

“Oh… I don’t know… It happens a lot though… ‘M not sure why…” He sniffed and bit his lip lightly, “I’m Gavin.”

“I’m Michael. Are you okay?”

“I’ll be alright.” Gavin smiled up at him as if everything was right with the world, but his slightly stuttered breathing and the red marks on his face suggested otherwise.

“Where are your parents?”

The pressure of the other boy’s teeth against his lip increased for a moment, “My dad’s a commentator. So he’s off working.”

Michael could feel his eyes light up, “Your dad works for the AGLA? That’s awesome!”

Gavin shrugged and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, “Actually he works for the IGLN. We’re just here because it’s playoff season. Whoever wins this bracket goes on to the World Championships and what not…”

“Yeah I know how it works.”

“Sorry…”

“What are you doing down here? Shouldn’t you be up with your dad? The game’s about to start.”

The other boy’s eyes darkened a bit and he looked away, “Ah… He doesn’t really like me to be there with him… Something about not having children in the booth… I really don’t want to be in there anyway…”

Michael folded his arms as his brows furrowed together, “That’s stupid. If my dad was a commentator, I’d want to be there all the time! The view must be great!”

“You’d be surprised…”

“So what do you do if you’re not allowed with your dad?”

Gavin gestured around him, “You’re looking at it…”

The red-head blinked in surprise, “You don’t… Watch the game?”

“Oh, I do. On the telly.” He pointed at the television hanging from the wall on the opposite side of the room. “They won’t let me into the arena without an adult.”

Michael spluttered, unable to comprehend what this boy was telling him, “Why do you even come then? You could watch on TV at home!”

“Not really though. My mom has me help take care of my brother and sisters… and this is the only time I ever get to see my dad. He’s always away.”

“But you don’t even get to see him when you’re with him!”

“But I do get to watch the game.”

Michael released an annoyed huff, then turned on his heel, grabbing the other boy’s arm and dragging him along behind him.

“M-Michael!?”

“Shut up. I’m gonna see if my dad will let you sit with us. It’s stupid that you get to go to the games but you don’t get to see them.”

“I-I’m used to it, Michael! You don’t have to—“

“Hey, dad. Can he sit with us? His folks dropped him off here and he can’t get into the seats without an adult.”

The older man looked down at them, from talking with someone else and smiled, “Sure, kid. Glad you found a friend.”

Michael seemed to blush at that, “W-we just met, dad.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t be friends. Where’s he from?”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Gavin moved closer and stuck out his hand to the man, “Hi, Mister Michael’s Dad. I’m Gavin. I’m from Oxfordshire in the UK.”

Michael’s dad shook the boy’s offered hand, “Well hi, Gavin! You can call me Mr. Jones.”

Gavin nodded before turning to look at Michael, “Is your last name Jones then?”

The other boy nodded, auburn curls bouncing slightly, “What’s yours?”

“Free. Gavin Free.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
